


All The Bad Dreams That You Hide

by steveharringtonkin



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveharringtonkin/pseuds/steveharringtonkin
Summary: It’s just past two in the morning and Steve can’t stop thinking about Jonathan Byers. He wonders for a moment what Tommy H. would have to say about his newfound friendship with Jonathan, before he resolutely sets the thought aside. It’s not that Steve really values Tommy’s opinion, at least not in the way he used to, but he knows his old best friend would have a thing or two to say about the fact that Steve sees Jonathan nearly every other day despite the fact that he’s long since graduated from Hawkins High.It doesn’t matter what Tommy thinks,Steve reasons.When has he ever been right about anything?
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	All The Bad Dreams That You Hide

**Author's Note:**

> a little werewolf steve commission for @whookami! i've never written anything like this before and i loved getting to experiment with it, so thank you so much! i really hope you love it.

It’s just past two in the morning and Steve can’t stop thinking about Jonathan Byers. He wonders for a moment what Tommy H. would have to say about his newfound friendship with Jonathan, before he resolutely sets the thought aside. It’s not that Steve really values Tommy’s opinion, at least not in the way he used to, but he knows his old best friend would have a thing or two to say about the fact that Steve sees Jonathan nearly every other day despite the fact that he’s long since graduated from Hawkins High. _It doesn’t matter what Tommy thinks,_ Steve reasons. _When has he ever been right about anything?_

Though the thoughts about Tommy are new, this bout of insomnia is hardly unusual for Steve. Most nights, Steve lies awake and thinks about how easy it would be to slip out his window and just wander around the woods behind the Byers’ house without Jonathan knowing. The sight of a tawny brown wolf in the forest behind the family’s home would be rare, sure, but hardly enough to raise suspicion. It doesn’t help that he’s able to transform easily now, years of practice and control making it every bit as simple as brushing his teeth or styling his hair, because nothing but his father’s scolding voice in his head is holding him back.

Steve rarely lets himself sneak away, no matter how much he feels a need to make sure the Byers’ family is safe. It’s not that he thinks they couldn’t defend themselves if another monster made them its next target, but more that he doesn’t want them to have to. If it was up to him, he’d put himself between Jonathan and every monster he ever faced, but of course he could never say that. He thinks maybe he doesn’t have to. 

Jonathan seems to implicitly understand that they would die for each other, no questions asked, and Steve has never really been sure what to do with that. Now that they’re tentative friends, it’s nearly enough to make him crazy, because everyone he knows thinks they should still hate each other for the things they did when they were sixteen and scared. Maybe they’re right. Maybe Steve and Jonathan were fated to stare at each other across the cafeteria at lunch, or on the court in PE, or between the shelves in the library and pretend that it’s because they hate each other. 

While what he felt for Jonathan had never come anywhere near hatred, Steve still hadn’t really meant to end up friends with him. He still often feels like maybe he was never supposed to know anything more about Jonathan than what he heard from bored housewives and bitter businessmen, but then Nancy had gone away to college while Jonathan deferred his acceptance to NYU for a year in order to save up some money and help support his family after it grew unexpectedly. That left Steve pushing paper at his dad’s company and Jonathan working behind the photo counter at Melvald’s developing photos of sixth birthday parties and trips to places he’ll never be able to afford to see in person, bored out of their minds and a little lonelier than either of them would like to admit. On a whim, Steve had asked if Jonathan wanted to grab lunch sometime, and Jonathan had shocked him by saying yes. 

He’d found out at lunch that Jonathan and Nancy had broken up once she got accepted to college in California, claiming it _just made sense_ , and that the rumors that the Byers’ themselves may be skipping town soon had been true. Joyce had simply decided not to pull Will and El away from all of their friends before the start of high school, even if Hawkins held all the memories of the hell they’d been put through over the past few years. Steve was grateful that they’d stayed now, even if it complicated things for him in a way he couldn’t possibly explain to anyone. 

Steve thinks it might be so hard because he knows Jonathan believes in monsters, and that he can keep a secret better than anyone else Steve’s ever met. Werewolves and demogorgons are just two vastly different things. Steve worries Jonathan may group them together regardless, which strengthens his resolve not to tell him when they’re alone together and the facade he keeps up starts to slip. 

Before he and Jonathan had gotten close, Steve had been so good at pretending. Little white lies paired with outright deception were just part of the territory when you start hiding the moment you’re born, so he got good at it. He’d lied to Tommy and Carol, and every teacher he ever had, and most often, to himself, but he’s starting to get tired. It’s gotten more difficult to tell even easy lies now that he has something that feels like a real family for what might be the first time in his entire life. 

Another recurring thought drifts across the surface of Steve’s tired mind, just as familiar as all the others. He wonders what Jonathan would think if he found out that Steve was a monster, too, not dissimilar to the ones they’d fought together three times now. Would they still have their unspoken pact? It would take some convincing to assure Jonathan that he didn’t think of himself a monster for his bad behavior in high school, or for the things he once said in a moment of blind, stupid jealousy, but because his family was cursed. No one would look at the Harrington’s and think they lived a life of anything other than luxury, but that was intentional. They were rich, well-liked people of power— not circus freaks out of children’s fairy tales. It was crucial that their reputation remained as such, as his parents so often reminded him.

Steve’s constant wondering about what ifs never gets him anywhere, because Jonathan can’t know. No matter how hard it is to keep from blurting out that he’s a fucking werewolf of all things, it’s what he has to do to protect both himself and the legacy that his parents have carved out in this community.

Finally, Steve starts to drift off, the thoughts of Jonathan never really leaving his mind even as he slips into unconsciousness. His last thought before sleep takes him under is that he should drop by and see Jonathan tomorrow. He knows Jonathan is off work, and that Joyce, Will and El will be out for much of the afternoon, which leaves him the perfect opportunity to talk to Jonathan alone. He’s been thinking about things for a long time, and maybe Jonathan can’t know about the whole werewolf thing, but there’s another secret he’s itching to divulge. 

The morning flies by and Steve chooses not to call Jonathan before heading over. He’s dropped by unannounced now that they’ve well and truly moved past any lingering awkwardness that still remained between them, and doesn’t think much of it as he starts up his car to head towards the other side of town. Before he knows it, he finds himself parked in the Byers’ driveway beside Jonathan’s beat up old car. He all but jogs up to the front door, knocking loudly and leaning against the side of the house while he waits for Jonathan to open it. When he does, he looks a little flustered, as if he’d run to make sure whoever was outside wasn’t kept waiting too long. It makes Steve smile even as Jonathan fixes him with a confused look. 

“Maybe I should take you running with me in the mornings if getting to the door gets you that winded,” Steve teases as Jonathan steps aside to let him in.

“I would rather listen to Madonna,” Jonathan replies dryly before his expression turns questioning. “What are you doing here?”

“You told me you were off work this Saturday and that your family wasn’t home. I assumed that meant you wanted me to come over,” he said coyly, winking at Jonathan jokingly. 

“People usually call first,” Jonathan responds, ever indifferent to Steve’s playfulness. He wasn’t sure when they’d reached this point in their friendship where he could say things like that just to watch the tips of Jonathan’s ears go pink, but he was glad they were here.

“Did you have plans?”

“Well,” Jonathan starts before sighing in defeat and shaking his head. “No. I didn’t.”

“Now you do,” Steve replies with a grin, toeing his shoes off next to the door just as he always did in his own home.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“No? I thought we could just… I don’t know. Hang out? Listen to your weird tapes or something,” Steve says, not having really thought through his plan much.

“You hate everything I listen to,” Jonathan quips, though he’s already turning on his heel towards his bedroom.

“No, I don’t,” Steve defends, dropping the act when Jonathan shoots him a knowing look. “Okay, yeah. Like, ninety percent of it sucks. But the other ten percent! The other ten percent is pretty okay.”

“Glowing endorsement,” Jonathan grumbles even as he’s putting a tape into the player on his desk. “You might like this one, actually. I made it for Will.”

Steve perched on the edge of Jonathan’s bed, smiling softly at his back as he explained that Will had a much more mainstream music taste, but that Jonathan hadn’t completely given up hope yet. Jonathan finally stepped away and moved to flop down on the bed, never quite letting his guard down enough to fall into a true sprawl. Following his lead, Steve laid flat against the mattress, his legs hanging off the end of the bed so he could bounce his heels anxiously against the carpet. The first song on the tape filled the room and Steve had to admit that he didn’t totally hate it. The lyrics were a little hard to follow, but the music was interesting and before he even realized he was doing it, Steve was nodding along to the beat and feeling some of his anxiety drain out of him.

“This isn’t nearly as bad as all that moody shit,” Steve said, elbowing Jonathan lightly in the hip since their relative positions meant he couldn’t really reach his ribs.

“Why’d you come over?” Jonathan asks suddenly and without preamble.

The question takes Steve by surprise and he takes a deep breath as he chooses his words. “I don’t know. I wanted to… talk, I guess?”

“About what?” Jonathan asks, and Steve can hear him turn his head to look down at Steve instead of up at the ceiling. 

“Well, it’s like… I know you’re really good at keeping secrets,” Steve starts, keeping his own eyes firmly down and away from Jonathan’s.

“If you did something illegal, Steve,” Jonathan interrupts, but Steve won’t let him finish.

“I didn’t do anything, Byers, promise,” he says, raising his hand as if to silently say, scout’s honor. “It’s just… I was watching the news with my parents a little while ago and… and they were talking about this new generation, our generation, and how different we are than our parents. They were talking about it like it was a bad thing, obviously, but the guy on the news used, uh, the word bisexual,” Steve says, dropping his voice in volume like he wasn’t sure if it was okay to just say openly.

“Uh huh,” Jonathan encourages, confused but seemingly supportive. 

Steve wants to tell him all his secrets so badly that he can feel a tugging sensation in his chest, like the words are begging to be let out, but he holds them back and focuses on the secret he’d come to divulge.

“Um, I think I… might be that. Bisexual,” he says softly, his eyes closed now because it makes it easier to admit the truth. “I thought, like, you like Bowie and Prince and all those guys who don’t care about labels or… or society or anything, so I… thought maybe you would get it. It’s not like I could tell Dustin, you know,” he joked, but it comes off weak. 

He’d been thinking about telling Robin ever since that night in the Starcourt bathrooms, but he’d never been able to make himself actually do it. He didn’t want her to have to handhold him through some crisis when he was pretty sure no one had ever done it for her, so instead he made sure she had no idea there was even a crisis to be had. Jonathan seems so different; despite what he’d called Jonathan back in school, he’d never really known if he was gay, or straight or anything else. Maybe he’d been through what Steve’s going through and maybe he hadn’t, but Steve trusted him with this secret regardless.

Silence had held the room for much longer than Steve expected, so he chanced a glance up at Jonathan. The other boy was staring right back down at him, his lips slightly parted in surprise. Steve had expected that much, but what he hadn’t expected was the slight furrow of confusion that weighed down Jonathan’s brow. He raised his own eyebrows in response and the movement seemed to spur Jonathan back into motion.

“That’s, uh… I didn’t think that was what you were gonna tell me,” he says, the words coming out quickly as if Jonathan hadn’t really thought about them before they left the haven of his lips. Immediately, he flinches, which only confuses Steve further. 

“What? What did you think I was gonna say? I told you I didn’t commit a crime,” he reminds.

“No, I just… I figured you were finally gonna come clean about the werewolf thing, honestly.”

Steve had never understood what people meant when they described time as standing still, but he really fucking gets it right now. He’s frozen, his mouth hung open just as Jonathan’s had been mere moments earlier, and he knows it must be a dead giveaway, but he can’t do anything else with this amount of shock coursing through him

Eventually, Steve’s brain comes back online and he moves to sit up facing Jonathan. “What are you talking about?” He asked, hoping that he might still be able to lie his way out of this situation.

“Well, it’s just that Will found this big brown dog in the woods behind the house months ago,” Jonathan explains, and Steve freezes again.

Somehow, he’d forgotten about the time he’d been behind the Byers’ house in the early morning near the start of summer. He’d allowed himself the transformation after a particularly bad nightmare about arriving at the Byers’ home just to find that the demogorgon had already gotten both Jonathan and Nancy. The dream was a recurring one, but this particular night had been worse than most, and he didn’t have the willpower to keep from checking on Jonathan somehow. He’d stayed for hours, just keeping watch. Against his own better judgment, he’d lingered long enough that the sun had started rising over the family’s home. He’d been distracted by the possibility of a noise behind him and hadn’t noticed he’d been spotted by Will until their eyes met.

There had been a brief flash of panic through him before Steve remembered that Will wouldn’t see him as anything other than a large, curious wolf, emerging from the forest in a rare show of civility. Will’s face had moved from fear to excitement and Steve watched as he held up a finger and ran inside, as if he thought this wolf may linger at his instruction. He’d known he should just leave, but the thought of crushing Will after everything he’d ever been through made it impossible. Will reappeared with a worn tartan blanket, holding it out as far as he could in offering despite the nearly twenty feet of distance between them. He set it down and moved back towards the house, keeping an eye on Steve, who simply planned to wait Will out. Unsurprisingly, Will had given up and gone back inside after a while, and Steve had returned home with a warm feeling he wasn’t used to settling in his chest.

Foolishly, Steve had made his way back to the Byers house, even though his transformation the night before had tired him, and took the blanket. He’d carried it to the edge of the woods before returning to his human form and walking back towards home with the ratty blanket folded carefully under his arm. Once Steve and Jonathan became friends, he’d hidden it in a pile of other blankets in his trunk, since he couldn’t risk storing it openly on his bed as he’d been doing. It had seemed like a safe hiding place at the time, but now he’s starting to think maybe it hadn’t been as ingenious as he’d thought. 

Steve nods a little, finding it hard to meet Jonathan’s eye, but needing him to keep talking. Jonathan sighs and closes his eyes, as if he’d only just realized how insane the conversation they were having truly was. More than anything, Steve wants to treat it like it is insane, or a joke, and move on, but words stick in his throat and force him to hear Jonathan out. 

“I guess he really thought it was cool, to see a wolf up close like that and everything, so he left a blanket out there in case the wolf needed it. Kid logic really gets ahold of him sometimes,” Jonathan says, his tone fond. “It was gone the next day and he never knew what actually took it, since he didn’t see it, but I… saw it. I mean, not the wolf,” Jonathan explains.

“Saw what?” Steve asks, still reaching for plausible deniability. 

“The blanket. You know when we smoked by the quarry and you drove over that nail? I went to get the jack like you asked and it was buried under this pile of blankets. When I moved them, I saw the… the blanket.”

“And you just assumed I was a werewolf?” Steve asks, faking at incredulity this time. 

Jonathan flushes, but the comment doesn’t deter him. “Well, no, but… you really suck at being subtle,” he says, making Steve’s mouth fall open in shock again.

“What?”

Jonathan stands and reaches for the shoebox he keeps all of his photos in. Steve’s seen it before, but Jonathan was famously touchy about the topic of its contents. He removes the lid and rifles through the photos that are carefully clipped together in groups. Finding the one he’s looking for, Jonathan sets the box aside and nearly throws the bundle of photos into Steve’s lap.

“There’s like, thirty of them, Steve. After the first time… with Will,” Jonathan begins, eventually trailing off. “I realized I had seen this wolf in the woods a bunch of times. It felt like just a weird coincidence, but then I saw the blanket in your trunk and I just… I just figured what the fuck do I know about anything anymore?”

Steve is speechless. He doesn’t know how Jonathan had taken so many photos without his noticing, but his retention of memories while he was transformed was only recently becoming anything Steve would classify as good. Desperately, he wracks his brain for something to say to explain this all away, but nothing comes. 

“Jonathan,” he finally gets out. 

“Don’t lie to me, Steve,” Jonathan says, his voice commanding in a way Steve has very rarely ever heard from him. It makes him feel powerless to deny Jonathan. “I know how crazy it sounds,” he continues. “I just… have this feeling—”

“Yeah,” Steve says, surprising both of them. “Byers, you can’t tell anyone,” he says, the words coming out harsh and rushed. “I’m serious, man. Not Will or— or your mom. No one knows.”

Jonathan sits up straighter, looking at Steve so intensely that he’s kind of worried either one of them might be about to puke. He’s never told anyone in his life and now that the secret is out, he feels so different. Without his noticing, Steve had taken hold of Jonathan’s wrist, and he’s holding on tight. Jonathan’s eyes flick down to where Steve’s fingers encircle his wrist, and Steve pulls away like he’s been burned.

“I’ve known for… months, Steve,” Jonathan points out. “I won’t tell them. I just… I guess I don’t really understand.”

Steve sighs and pushes a hand through his hair, glancing at Jonathan’s open bedroom door. No one else is home, but Steve gets up and pushes the door closed, anyways, just in case. He returns to the bed once he’s closed it, keeping his distance from Jonathan by sitting cross legged at the end of his bed. Jonathan mirrors his position across from him on the mattress and Steve can tell Jonathan is waiting for him to give some sort of explanation. He closes his eyes for a minute before launching into the details.

“It’s… my family got cursed, like, 200 years ago. It’s a genetic thing, so my parents got it from their parents and passed it onto me. I know it sounds… insane,” Steve assures, but Jonathan shakes his head immediately.

“With everything we’ve seen, it actually sounds pretty normal,” he jokes, making Steve laugh a little despite himself. “You really came over here just to tell me you like guys when you’re a fucking werewolf, man?” Jonathan asks incredulously. 

Steve can’t help but laugh, even as he reaches out to shove Jonathan. “Fuck off, Byers. I already told you why I did it.”

“No, you just politely stepped around the fact that you told me because you knew I would get it,” Jonathan replies, suddenly turning his gaze away from Steve as he says it. 

“You get it?” Steve asks softly, knowing well now that what he says will determine the course of their entire friendship from this point on.

“You don’t have to act surprised. You knew three years ago,” Jonathan mutters, and Steve feels a flash of overwhelming guilt for his past actions. 

Mixed in alongside the guilt is something else, a feeling that Steve can only really describe as hope. Jonathan gets it. Jonathan gets it, and suddenly Steve’s closer to something he’s wanted his entire life than he ever thought he would be. Years of repressing his quiet feelings towards Jonathan melt away and the once familiar emotions come bubbling right back up to the surface of his mind again. It feels nearly impossible, but he tries to go on as normal. 

“I really didn’t. I was just… an asshole. Robin would probably say I was just projecting.”

“Does she know?”

“No one knows. Um, about either thing,” he says. Jonathan’s face softens in a way Steve has never seen before and he shoots Jonathan a confused look. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jonathan replies, but the little smile on his lips gives him away, so Steve asks again. Jonathan shakes his head before he says, “I just… you have to admit that it’s kind of funny.”

“Funny?” Steve repeats incredulously. 

“Yeah. Like, werewolves are this huge metaphor for homosexuality. Maybe it’s not funny,” Jonathan amends, but Steve can’t help grinning. It is kind of funny. “Why were you in the woods behind the house anyways?” He asks, the abrupt derail throwing Steve for a loop.

“I don’t know,” Steve says quickly, but he doesn’t want to lie anymore. “I just… Sometimes I have nightmares about everything that’s happened, so I like to keep an eye out. Make sure everything’s okay out here. With you guys and everything,” he mumbles, averting his eyes.

When he brings his gaze back up, it’s to meet Jonathan’s own intense stare. He goes to ask if Jonathan is okay, but Jonathan cuts him off before he’s able to. He reaches out and catches the fabric of Steve’s shirt in his fist, hauling him forward and pressing his lips to Steve’s hard. The kiss catches Steve off guard and he freezes in surprise, his mouth parting in a quiet gasp. Once his brain catches up with what’s happening, Steve kisses Jonathan back somewhat desperately. They slowly part, both panting a little and staring at each other in wide-eyed shock, and Steve laughs despite himself. 

“Holy shit,” he gasps as Jonathan blushes and ducks his head. “I didn’t think you were gonna… do that.”

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan says quickly, getting to his feet.

Before he can put too much space between them, Steve reaches out and catches Jonathan’s wrist just as he had earlier. He pulls hard, but Jonathan’s feet are planted, and Steve lets his bottom lip fall into a playful pout. Reading Jonathan’s expression feels impossible, but Steve knows he can’t let him run away from this. 

“Do you regret doing it?” He asks, his heart racing.

“I… No. I don’t,” Jonathan replies, his shoulders drooping slightly.

“So come do it again,” Steve invites, tugging again and grinning as Jonathan falls back beside him on the bed.

“On one condition,” Jonathan says, already turning to face Steve squarely. 

“Okay, sure.”

“Stop lurking around my house in the middle of the night. Just fucking call me when you have a nightmare like a normal person.”

Steve laughs and rolls his eyes before he pulls Jonathan back in. He kisses him solidly this time, tilting Jonathan’s head as his hand cups his jaw, and tries not to smile against Jonathan’s lips. It proves impossible to keep the smile off his face, and they part once again as they both laugh. Steve looks at Jonathan once they’ve separated and feels his heart swell in his chest as he caresses Jonathan’s cheek with his thumb.

“You wouldn’t like me if I was a normal person,” Steve points out.

“What makes you think I like you now?” Jonathan asks.

Steve laughs and rolls his eyes even as he leans in to steal another kiss.


End file.
